


Bad Days and Better Nights

by Krissielee



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 20:06:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4974499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krissielee/pseuds/Krissielee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's day is looking impossibly terrible--he overslept, can't find his cufflinks, and his regular coffee shop was closed. He just wants the day to end. Then the barista at the new place turns everything around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Days and Better Nights

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cinderella81](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinderella81/gifts).



> Happy birthday, [Becky](http://archiveofourown.org/users/cinderella81/pseuds/cinderella81)! You wanted a coffee shop au, and while there's not much of that in here ... well. You got porn, at least. <3 You know I freakin' adore you.
> 
> Betaed by [Knuckleblister](http://archiveofourown.org/users/knuckleblister), who is just too, too perfect. Cheers, darling!
> 
> I'm so sorry, guys, for the shitty smut. *hides face*

Harry scowled as he walked down the street, cursing the day already. First, he’d overslept and missed a teleconference with the Russian head of Kingsman, then his dryer had shredded his favourite socks, and he couldn’t find his cufflinks.

So naturally his favourite coffee shop, the one that stocked his favourite teas, was closed. Apparently there had been a fire the night before, and Harry’s day was looking to be impossible to salvage.

He’d directed the car to … any coffee shop, really; at that point, it didn’t matter where he went, since it wasn’t _his_ shop, and they wouldn’t know his order. The staff wouldn’t know his name. They probably wouldn’t even have lemon muffins! 

And the shop he was dropped outside of looked to be staffed entirely by children barely out of secondary.

Well, if he didn’t want to spend his day severely under-caffeinated, this was his only option. He headed right to the counter, thankful there was no line, and waited for the boy to greet him.

“Oi, guv, you look like shit,” the boy said, and Harry’s frown deepened. “Go on, go find a seat. I’ll fix you up proper.”

“I haven’t ordered—”

“Nah, s’on me,” the boy interrupted, winking at Harry, and Harry thought he had a rather nice smile, bright and happy, encouraging Harry to reply in kind. “Go on, then. I’ll sort you out.”

Harry obeyed, though he would swear to his dying breath that it was only because he’d had such a terrible morning that he trusted a _child_ with his drink order.

A few minutes later, a cup was set in front of him, and Harry glanced up. The boy was smiling. “Go on, then. Tell me how you like it. I ain’t been wrong yet.”

It was a latte. A latte with a happy face poured into the foam. Harry scowled; clearly the boy was mocking him, but picked up the drink anyway. It smelled delicious, if he were being honest with himself.

Slowly, carefully, he took a sip, humming in appreciation as soon as it touched his tongue. “Is that almond?” Harry asked before taking a second drink, and the boy nodded.

“You looked like the type o’ gent what doesn’t like his drinks sweet,” the boy said, “but I’m bettin’ this mornin’ was more’n a black coffee type o’ mornin’. You looked like hell, guv—er, no offense,” he added, flushing a bit. “You jus’ look like you had a rough mornin’.”

“I did,” Harry agreed. “How much do I owe you?”

“S’on the house. Told you that already.”

“I can’t accept—”

“If you really want to repay me, how about dinner? There’s a great little Chinese place round the corner—best ‘eff you’ noodles around,” the boy said, and Harry looked up at him, more than a little surprised that he’d just been asked out, and wondering what ‘eff you’ noodles were. Harry’d been to China dozens of times and hadn’t heard that term before. But this boy was … really, really sweet, and devastatingly handsome, moreso when he was smiling.

“Well, I can’t very well take you out without at least knowing your name,” Harry replied, after checking that he hadn’t missed a nametag on the boy’s apron.

“Eggsy,” he replied. “I’m Eggsy. An’ you are …?”

“Harry.”

Eggsy grinned. “Well, Harry, what time d’you get off work? I could get us a table over at Princess Garden; you can come by soon’s you’re free.”

Harry smiled back, sipping his latte. “I should be off by 6,” he said. “I’d be honoured to meet you there.”

“Honoured, you say? Ooh, bagged me a proper gent,” Eggsy teased, winking. “You jus’ sit tight, Harry, an’ finish that latte,” he added, hurrying to help the few customers that had entered while he was busy flirting. Harry watched him work, watched him tease the customers, greet his regulars with questions about their families and jobs, and he smiled, too. Eggsy’s enthusiasm and bright demeanour were infectious, and Harry found himself taking his time finishing the drink, scrolling through his email on his phone, every now and again glancing up at Eggsy. Then a plate was set beside him, and Harry looked up at Eggsy, curious even before the boy sat down opposite him.

“Lemon muffin,” Eggsy said. “Fresh-made this mornin’. An’ Roxy’s fuckin’ ace at bakin’. Thought we could share, yeah?” He tore a piece of the muffin off, shoving it into his mouth.

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. Lemon muffins to go with good company. And Eggsy was right; the muffin was delicious. 

The next ten minutes of Eggsy’s break boosted Harry’s mood even further, and when the boy needed to get back to work, Harry passed over his card. “Call me,” he said. “And I will see you tonight. Princess Garden, you said?”

Eggsy nodded, winking at Harry before heading back to the counter, waving at Harry as the man left the shop, climbing back into the car.

He had a new coffee shop to frequent, and a date with a gorgeous young man.

Not a bad end for such a shitty morning.

\--

Too many hours later—though thankfully they passed quickly and easily, Harry merely going over reports and researching for upcoming missions while responding to a few texts from Eggsy—Harry was able to leave Kingsman almost on time. He met Eggsy at the restaurant just before 7, taking a seat opposite the younger man with a soft greeting and inquiry to the rest of his day.

“You was the highlight,” Eggsy replied, changing chairs to take the seat beside Harry, sharing the menu with him, fingers brushing together. “Counted down all day for this.” 

Eggsy then began pointing out things on the menu he liked, including the “eff you” noodles—“e-fu, Eggsy …”—and between them, they ordered more than enough food for the both of them, and a bottle of wine to split. 

Harry was more than a little surprised at how easily conversation flowed between the two of them; he wouldn’t have thought they’d have so much in common, given the age discrepancy and the difference in social status. But Eggsy was incredibly bright, and it was clear how he loved his mother and baby sister—he’d pulled out his phone to show off pictures of the both of them, delighting in telling Harry stories of taking Daisy to the zoo, or being able to give his mother a nice night out once in a while through his tips. He never mentioned his father, and Harry didn’t ask. He just responded in kind, telling stories of his own youth, showing pictures of himself and his friends—mostly Merlin, and Eggsy had failed to hide a laugh at the man’s name—telling tales of trips to Hanoi and Quito and Karachi, weaving it into stories about the thrilling life of a tailor: “I once stabbed the bloody Prince of Wales in the arse with a pin,” Harry intoned, and Eggsy nearly howled with laughter.

Fuck, he didn’t want the night to end. Harry wanted to take Eggsy home and see if he was just as enchanting in bed. 

Thankfully, Eggsy made the choice easy for him. “So, gonna invite me back to yours for a drink?”

Harry smiled. “Of course, Eggsy.”

\--

They never did get to that drink. 

The second the door had closed behind them, Eggsy had Harry pressed against the wall, tongue practically down the man’s throat. Harry responded eagerly, letting Eggsy take charge for now.

“We should go upstairs,” Harry breathed between kisses, lips sucking marks into Eggsy’s neck. “My bed’s more comfortable than the floor here.”

Eggsy hummed his approval, then kissed Harry once more, deep enough that Harry felt his toes curl. 

“Fuck,” Harry gasped when they parted. “Upstairs, _now_.” He took Eggsy’s hand, squeezing tight as he pulled the boy up behind him, counting it as a minor miracle that neither of them tripped. Eggsy toed out of his shoes—trainers with wings, for fuck’s sake—fingers fumbling to unbutton his shirt as fast as possible. Harry responded in kind; his body was eager for more skin, more contact, more _Eggsy_. 

Eggsy finished stripping first, licking his lips as he watched Harry finish up, taking a moment to turn the man’s bed down. “Christ, you’re fit,” he breathed. “That suit don’t do nothin’ for those abs, guv. Should go ‘round shirtless all the time, cut like you are.”

Harry smiled, walking over to the bed, pausing only to grab condoms and lube from his dresser—he didn’t entertain often enough to need them in his nightstand, but if this lasted more than the night, he’d seriously consider moving his supplies to a more accessible location. “You are … exquisite, Eggsy,” he replied, shamelessly looking over the young man currently spreading himself out over Harry’s bedsheets.

“Come ‘ere,” Eggsy said, reaching out to Harry, fingers sliding over his chest, his stomach, his hips before gripping tight and tugging the man down with him and kissing him sweetly. “Thought about this all day,” he admitted in a whisper, though his eyes were bright and there was nothing in his demeanour that suggested he minded admitting that in the slightest, “abou’ what I was gonna do when I was in your bed.”

“What did you think about?” Harry asked, rolling Eggsy so he was on top of Harry, shameless in his admiration of the view.

“Thought about sucking your cock,” Eggsy said, winking. “Then about your cock in other places.” 

Harry very much liked both of those ideas, and he sat up slightly, teeth worrying Eggsy’s collarbone for a few moments. “Anything you want to do,” he whispered, “I will be a very willing participant.” Eggsy laughed, sliding down Harry’s body and nuzzling at the sparse hair on his chest for a moment before reaching his goal. His eyes never left Harry’s as he took the man’s cock into his mouth tortuously slowly, causing Harry to spit out a few curses.

Eggsy wasn’t deterred; he moaned happily around Harry’s prick as he brought the man closer and closer to the edge, backing off only to do it again and again. Harry’s hands found their way to the boy’s hair, soft dark blonde strands slipping through his fingers as he tried not to choke Eggsy or rip out any of that gorgeous hair. Finally, though, Harry had to pull him off, panting and desperate as he was. “If you plan to ride me, I need some time to calm down,” he breathed. “I’m afraid my recovery time isn’t what it used to be.”

“You sayin’ you’d not get it up twice for me?” Eggsy teased, but was careful not to touch Harry’s oversensitive erection as he reached for the lube, squirting a bit on Harry’s fingers, and directing his hand back between his legs. Harry was glad to stretch Eggsy out; he knew he’d enjoy it immensely when he could pull Eggsy onto him, fuck him until they were both a sticky, sweaty mess.

“I’m sure I’d put up a valiant effort,” Harry replied, adding a second finger and loosening Eggsy as quickly as he felt comfortable with. “But let’s not chance that tonight.”

Eggsy grunted, trying to force Harry to add a third finger. “Get on with it, then,” he hissed. Harry pulled his fingers free, trusting Eggsy to know his limits. Eggsy squirmed a bit and reached for the condom laying near Harry’s head. “C’mon.” Deft fingers rolled the condom over Harry’s cock, and Eggsy winked as he lined up over Harry’s hips. He sat down slowly, biting his lip as Harry sank deeper inside.

“Fuck,” Harry said, hands gripping Eggsy’s hips as he started to thrust. Eggsy groaned and arched his back; he looked beautiful and Harry wanted _more_. “Touch yourself,” he ordered, and Eggsy obeyed immediately, fingers wrapped around his prick and stroking roughly in time to Harry’s thrusts.

“God, Harry—ain’t gonna last,” Eggsy gasped, curling forward for a rough kiss, rolling his hips _just so_ , and then Harry was coming, pounding into Eggsy until the boy came, too. 

They lay there, Eggsy clinging to Harry, both of them panting, until Harry’s prick slipped out of Eggsy’s arse and Eggsy whimpered. Harry’s hands ran over Eggsy’s back as he tried to think of ways to ask Eggsy if he’d be open to doing that more often—every night, if possible.

As he had earlier, Eggsy beat him to it.

“How long till you’re ready for round two?”


End file.
